Daniel Faraday, Daniel Faraday!

I never wrote about how awesome Lost was on Wednesday. It was awesome. And how I love my darling Daniel Faraday! Daniel Faraday makes Physics attractive. I though that would be impossible, but he has. My little soft spoken ADD little quantum physicist! Of course, he just admitted his love for Charlotte, which I knew was going to happen eventually, but still. Is it weird how infatuated I am with this fictional character? Every time he comes onscreen I squee. Yes, squee.

I suppose it's not as weird as people who fall in love with fictional gay sparkling vampires, or, even worse, I've had friends who've fallen in love with anime characters. That's just weird. They're cartoon, for cripes' sake! Ha... cripes... Cripes is a fun word.

I mean, at least Jeremy Davies, the actor who plays Daniel, is real. He likes Physics, too! He's so... lovely! I hope Daniel doesn't die. I might cry. I cried when my old favorite character, Charlie, died. But right then, there was Daniel! Okay, I didn't actually cry. Well, maybe a little. A very tiny bit.

This shall be good fun...

Anna needs to be excused from class today
Anna looks absolutely FANTASTIC!
Anna says "Here comes Kenny!"
Anna wants to break free
Anna does heroin(!)
Anna hates you!
Anna asks her parents how babies are made
Anna likes cat people
Anna eats a bug
Anna wears her sunglasses at night
Anna was arrested for beating her husband
Anna loves Roger Federer

Aaaand no ball and chain no prison shall keep, we're the rebels of the sacred heart!

I got a haircut. I say this now, in print, because you probably won't notice it tomorrow. On a side note, because I'm actually going somewhere with this, don't you hate it when people get barely noticeable haircuts and get super offended when nobody notices? I want to just say "Just shave your fucking head if you want us to notice, because your little quarter inch of hair on the salon floor is just begging for some company."

No! I was going somewhere with this! Am I the only one who feels super awkward at the hairdresser?

Crap! I need another side note because I just discovered something. I thought I had lost Bridget's book (I was going to tell you, I just wasn't sure it was lost!") but it's just hiding under a pillow on my bed!

Dammit this post had a point and I was going to put a nice little intellectual discussion of the intricacies and social and physical complexities of the relationship between client and hairdresser.

Well, now I've forgotten what I was going to say about all of that so I'm going to take another side note (Although since I've given up I suppose it's more of an end note... Or... Whatever...). I... uh... dammit...

We must... protect innocent new German kids from the horror of preppiness!

I hate cleaning. I think if someone came over to my house when I was an adult, they would find dirty dishes and dust covering everything, carpets covered in crumbs, moldy bathtubs and dirty toilets.

Or maybe when I grow up I'll magically turn into my obsessively clean mother. Well, she's not obsessive. Thank god. But if a friend of mine is coming over everything must be scrubbed until it shines. Or maybe once a month she'll have us pull out all the stops and we'll have to vacuum every inch of the place.

I suppose all of that isn't too bad. Vacuuming is quick, if terribly loud and clunky. I do hate washing the floor, though. It's like, lifting up the weight of all the steps pressing down with a dirty rag. It's... suffocating.

The worst is when someone cleans my room for me. I like my dirty room. And when it's clean it doesn't feel like mine at all.

"The question is, just how much more black can this get? The answer is none. None more black." - Nigel from This is Spinal Tap

Maaan... It's cut off... Just click and drag it, it should pop up.

Oh Daniel Faraday you are the cutest little neanderthal-ish person ever

I really really wish you guys were as obsessed with Lost as I am. How else can we discuss how adorable Daniel Faraday is? Or Desmond? Or Charlie? Or Claire? Or Sun and Jin?

I am so addicted to Lost. Lost is the only tv show I regularly watch. I would say "besides scrubs" after that, but I just buy episodes of that on Itunes. I do love scrubs, though. Shame on the haters of scrubs.

But really, that's all the tv I watch. Every once in a while I'll watch the Daily Show or the Colbert Report with my mom, but that's it. Partly because I lve movies so much more, and partly because I spend so much time on my computer. Ha, you didn't think I was like a good kid, or anything.

Wow, this post is so weirdly formatted because of all of the pictures. Okay, the adorable Korean couple is Sun and Jin, the adorable blonde is Claire, the adorable Scotsman in the blue shirt is Desmond, and the extra extra adorable guy in the tie is Dan.

So... The blues pretty much rock.

I saw Cadillac Records with Bridget the other day. You know, that day. Uhhh... sunday, was it? Yes, sunday.

Okay guys, Muddy Waters, Leonard Chess, Etta James, Little Walter, Chuck Berry and Howlin' Wolf totally top the toppingest of the list of the toppest great people in the world. And dammit, Bridget, Chuck Berry was hot.

Anyway, Cadillac Records, awesome movie. It was all about this record company, Chess records, that made all these black singers super famous when everything was still all segregated in the south. It's all about racial issues, record company sleaze, and bringing people together with good music.

First off, the good music. The music was soooo good. I mean, I had heard like, blues and classic rock & roll, never thought too much of it. I actually remember learning about a bunch of these people in music class in elementary school. Yeah, instead of studying boring old fart composers we got to study cool jazz and blues icons. I never knew that they used harmonica so much, or that the guitar was played so skillfully like that. ...I wish I could play guitar like that. All I know right now is the few chords I've taught myself. And... the voices! Beyonce sounded absolutely amazing.

And now... I can't type anymore, since I'm supposed to be going to bed. At 9:40, can you believe it?

To further reveal my dorkiness

...I made sims of my city characters. What can I say? I tried to email pictures of them to myself to get them on this computer, but I could only get one of Nilay. Still, it's pretty cool.

Nilay Kala is a young Indian man. He’s lived in the city his whole life, but his parents emigrated from India. Both of his parents, his whole family, in fact, have been taken. He even had the bad luck to be there when he mother fell to the illness. So no, he’s not insane. But he’s still pretty messed up. So yeah, his backstory.
He’s an artist, actually. There isn’t much to make art with, and the colors never seem as bright as they used to, but he sculpts with twisted metals and shells of cars.
Nilay lives in his family’s old van, which is decorated with pencil sketches, and he’s made very comfortable. He’s scooped out all the engine parts to use for storage, and taken out the back seats for a sleeping area. He’s scavenged all sorts of bits and bobs which he collects and displays on or inside the car. The reason he’s living in a van and not, say a house, is because it’s been taken over by one of the roaming gangs that’s popped up. He drove the van to escape them and parked in an empty lot when he was about to run out of gas. He’s lived there ever since.

A couple of random half-secrets/apologies

I never listen to the music on your blogs. I'm sorry if you were trying to create some sort of mood and it was lost on me.

I'm pretty wimpy in most respects. Well, not too wimpy.

Every time I perform on stage, whether it be a simple exercise in acting or opening night of the play, I shake a little bit.

I am very, very indecisive. Well, no, it's not that. I know what I'm going to decide in the end, I just feel the need to argue with myself anyway.

I have odd fantasies. Or daydreams. Or whatever.

I enjoy putting on too much make up and then wiping it off furiously.

I find people of color to be in general much more attractive than white people.

I frequently wonder what it would be like to be a guy. Uncomfortable is what I've come up with.

My family ticks me off a lot more than most people think. My brother's a psycho loser and my mom's a creepy micromanager. I've written a lot of angry poetry about them. My dad's ok, though. Even if he smells terrible from all the cigars he smokes. And he's a republican.

I immediately judge republicans. I'm sorry. I don't hate you for your political opinions, but I can't say that I respect them all that much.

I procrastinate mightily. Sorry for not including some sort of procrastination joke here.

One of my greatest wishes is to know what's going on in everyone's head. Like a mind reader.

On the subject of mind readers, I've decided that this guy in my spanish class is one, so I bug him when I'm bored by thinking weird thoughts and talking to him with my mind.

I don't believe in magic or god. I don't know... It just makes me go "Someone made this up."

Even though I believe in anarchy and all that jazz, I'm a pretty sorry excuse for a rebel.

Sometimes when I'm writing something and get stuck, I mash the keyboard. It never works.

I am a huge sims2 nerd. Huge.

My time of the month completely disgusts me. Ick, ick, ick, ick, ick.

- Okay, this is a bit lame, huh. Uh... Well, I'm getting my braces off next thursday. I'm very excited for next week, actually.

Monday- NO SCHOOL
Tuesday-MLK day symposium, not too excited about spending all day with sophomore girls african stamp printing without my beloved Gaia.
Wednesday- The new season of Lost! I rarely watch TV, I just get tons of netflix, but Lost rocks so hard. Very very excited,
Thursday- I get my braces off, as I mentioned before.
Friday- It's a friday! Nothing special, really, but... it's a friday.


Okay, this is getting super long so...

Wait! I do have something to say!

Firefox has been disappointing me.

You know, I finally stopped being lazy and apathetic and replaced it as my default whatever whatever, because safari was being a bit mean with a bunch of blog aspects. Like, as already mentioned, I couldn't copy and past in a post or comment on Gaia's blog.

So yes, I am grateful that I can do these things now, but it seems to be draining another one of my obsessions. The Sims 2. No, I don't play it on this computer, but you have to know...

I'm a really, really big sims2 dork. Like, really big. Pretty obsessed. And obsessed people like me obsessively read stories that people make with the sims2. But the official story exchange pretty much refuses to load with firefox.

I feel a bit better now that I've admitted my secret passion. Maybe I should post my pictures... No, too early for that. You guys need time to soak in how much of a dork I am.

Anyway, not that anyone cares that firefox is antagonizing me...

I feel like I should post something, but I'm not really feeling the inspiration...

Um, figs? What are they. Some sort of fruit, right?

This character in Acting that I made is a zen master who frequently uses fig metaphors.

I've never tasted one. Are they good?


And, well, I'm very much stuck with a poem I love/hate, and very unmotivated. And sticky.

Are figs sticky?

Happiness and joy

Go on Postsecret! I was in a crappy mood and it made me so happy! Google it, I tell you!

I didn't have a ver nice evening, no siree.

So, I had my first fencing meet today. I was nervous, no, I wasn't nervous. I was anxious. I knew I wasn't as good as my teammates, and I knew that I would lose at least one bout.

Okay, I don't talk about fencing very much, but I do enjoy it, actually, even though sometimes it becomes a bit of a chore. Suffice it to say that this whole competing thing was sort of thrust on me. I mean, I did want to do it, but I didn't have much of a choice if I wanted to be accomodating, which I am, and... I just realized that the blog thinks that perfectly good contractions are misspelled.

Anyway, I only had to do three bouts. And, well, I lost all of them to mediocre fencers. It was very upsetting. Well, I have excuses.

1. This is my first time, and I was shaking like a leaf.

2. In the first bout, I did fine, actually. I'm pretty sure that the director messed up with the scoring, because he said the score was 4-3 in my favor for two of my touches. I was unnerved by this, and lost by one point.

3. In the second bout my opponent was a left handed fencer, and she was actually halfway good. Even halway good lefties are really hard to fence. The regular target is all covered up by the arm, and she hit my arm really hard. At least I got two good touches in.

4. The last bout was the absolute worst. Because of extensive technical problems in the beginning, everyone else had finished and everyone was watching. The whole other team was watching and cheering their person on, which was extremely unnerving and depressing, really.

To make matters worse, my tummy hurts. And for a reason.

It's times like these when I just need to take a long, hot shower, get into my comfiest jammies and crawl into bed with a good movie to watch on my laptop.

Good news!

Like any of you care, but, I stopped being lazy and started using firefox, and now I can copy and paste things into my blog posts! Aren't you excited? No? I am!

This could possibly mean that I will be able to comment on Gaia's blog again! Oh joys! (For some reason her captcha dealio wasn't showing up.)

So... A celebratory copying and pasting, then.

Mystic

The air is a mill of hooks----
Questions without answer,
Glittering and drunk as flies
Whose kiss stings unbearably
In the fetid wombs of black air under pines in summer.

I remember
The dead smell of sun on wood cabins,
The stiffness of sails, the long salt winding sheets.
Once one has seen God, what is the remedy?
Once one has been seized up

Without a part left over,
Not a toe, not a finger, and used,
Used utterly, in the sun's conflagration, the stains
That lengthen from ancient cathedrals
What is the remedy?

The pill of the Communion tablet,
The walking beside still water? Memory?
Or picking up the bright pieces
Of Christ in the faces of rodents,
The tame flower-nibblers, the ones

Whose hopes are so low they are comfortable-----
The humpback in his small, washed cottage
Under the spokes of the clematis.
Is there no great love, only tenderness?
Does the sea

Remember the walker upon it?
Meaning leaks from the molecules.
The chimneys of the city breathe, the window sweats,
The children leap in their cots.
The sun blooms, it is a geranium.

The heart has not stopped.

Ah, Sylvia, it's too bad what happened to you, for you make my heart sing.

Sooo... Wanna hear about my characters? No? Too bad.

Yay! I stopped procrastinating for a bit! Well, no, not really. I was hoping to actually WRITE my character backgrounds instead of writing one and a half, then having the rest of them suddenly pop out in my head, having an epiphany with them, basically, then deciding to share them with the world. At least wrote one. That in itself is a big achievement for me. But... don't get me started on plot ideas. You should know that if I seem weird or distracted it's because I'm thinking about this thing constantly.

Anyway, I have four. Tara, Amery Gibbons, Adalyn Brava and Nilay Kala. I'm going to add more, make no mistake, but these are the main ones so far, the narrators. Most of them sort of fit into the ideas I had for different points of view. Tara is the one in an asylum (though I think I'm not going to have her describe the asylum, her points of view will be flashbacks. Amery is the policeman, going through the motions of a broken system while anarchy rules around him. Adalyn is the outsider to the city, used to light and clear skies, yet craving something different to her previous home that she holds so much disdain for (she's a runaway). And then Nilay, who actually doesn't fit any of the ones that I wrote. He's Nilay, I guess.

I love going on those baby naming sites and finding really cool meaning names for characters. Tara I pulled out of thin air, actually, but it fits her, I think. Amery means justice, which is sooo him. Adalyn is actually, like, me (Note the surname, Bridget, that must have given you a hint). Adalyn means good humor, and I think I satisfy that in both senses of the word humor, plus Adalyn is coming from somewhere where good humor is expected, and going to a place where it's practically unheard of. Nilay means home, which means something that might betray a bit of plot, and Kala means artistic or creative, like skilled, and he's an artist, skilled because he can make a dark, gray city beautiful.


Yaya! I should go finish these things now.

The feet like little bells...

Okay, I haven't looked at lolcats for a bit, and I already feel smarter. Too bad they're so addicting. Anyway. I've been writing little twiddles. I like the majority, but it doesn't fit right. 

OMYEFFINGODIMUSTSTOPPROCRATINATINGWITHTHISBLOGPOST!!

IMUSTGETSOMEREALWRITINGDONE!!!

GAAAH!!! 

CAPSLOCK!!! 

Enlessly, yet visions lie

Every minute,  romance

For if it glints off shining bells 

The light itself is sure to stay 

...Just little twiddles from the poem I'm writing. Hopefully it will work out. GAH PROCRASTINATING! 

Oh my it's Sunday now... I hadn't realized. The trials of staying up late, I suppose.

I think I need to stop looking at lolcats. Yes, I look at lolcats. I'm sorry. But I think they've made my brain melt. Everything I've written over the last few days has been crap. Gosh, I wish I could be just a bit cleverer in print. I usually don't have a problem saying things that might be considered clever out loud (Here's a tip to sound clever when you have no idea what you're talking about- Big words.). But I have lots of trouble writing sometimes. 

I'm still messing about with the city, I haven't gotten any real writing done yet and I'm already cutting stuff out. What's mostly written down in that respect is plot ideas and what amounts to character intros. What scares me a lot is that I still have basically no idea where I'm going with this, which has caused the failure of many a story, let me tell ya. But no, I'm sticking it out and figuring this plot out. 

I started a poem, too, but... it's not finished, it needs a LOT of rewriting, and while I like some of the phrases, I think I'm going to scrap most of it. 

We also went bowling today, and something dawned on me that I must have known subconsciously forever. Bowling kills my soul. I hate bowling and it hates me. 

I got a new phone, as well. It's nice, I'm quite happy with it. It's very fun to mess around on and it's got a full keyboard. Now if only my dad would get unlimited texting it would be just perfect...

I leave you with this:

"Don't accept the old order. Get rid of it."

- Johnny Rotten of The Sex Pistols

EDIT: The blog time LIES! It WAS sunday when I wrote this!

Hehe

I actually was going to post some emo T.S. Eliot poem. But then I was too lazy, since I would have to type it out because for some reason my blog posting disapproves of copy paste. 

T.S. Eliot is my second choice for the poetry book for English. Sylvia Plath is my first, but I know that there are only two and Bridget and Gaia have both been showing fondness... Please... I want Sylvia... :(

But T.S. will be ok. They have kinda the same writing style. Sometimes pretty depressing, umm... Oh, one difference is that T rhymes. Right? I can't remember now. 

The other day Becca was saying in class that she hates it when poems don't rhyme, and I kinda wanted to hurt her in some way, or scream at her "WHO THE FUCK CARES WHAT YOU THINK PREPPY BITCH?!?!".

My poems don't usually rhyme. It depends on my mood. But I can't force the rhyming. And what the fuck does Becca know about poetry? Other than "It should rhyme". I hope she hated my e. e. cummings poem. 

How did this turn out so angry?

I s'pose I should post a poem too, huh?

Just kidding. 

Lalalalaalaaa doo

HEY BUFFALO BILL, WHAT DID YA KILL, BUFFALO BILL?

Do insane people use run on sentences?

I've been thinking about mental illness. Y'know, for the city, where there's an asylum on every block. I mean, it is going  to be some sort of made up insanity, but is there a disease I should work from? I don't want to seem like I'm grossly exaggerating or making fun of a serious mental illness. 

Y'know, I've been thinking I won't even write anything that goes on in the "madhouses". They could just be these... buildings. People go in, but nobody comes out. People won't be, like, killed in there. It's just some sort of prison. But nobody outside is sure. I think they'd be... creepier that way. 

Okay, I should probably be paying attention right now. I will consider this more later.

Bang, bang, shoot, shoot.

I like crosswords. Don't you? On with the show, then. 

I just saw the COOLEST short movie ever! It was so... compelling. And, different, I guess. It's called the Mysterious Geographical Explorations of Jasper Morello. And... WOW. 

I had remembered seeing the trailer to it a while ago, and I thought it would be a cool inspiration for my new collection of stories I'm writing. So I finally looked it up, and it was awesome. 

The movie is about a half an hour long, and animated with silhouettes mostly. The look is very artsy and steampunk, and the story is dark and brooding, yet thrilling at the same time. It doesn't make you think so much as it makes you... know. Know human nature, and drive, and thirst for success, acceptance and forgiveness, love. Okay, maybe I'm reading a bit too much into it. But still, it's really good. 

Okay, this next part might be considered a spoiler, or maybe just background info.

Jasper Morello, the narrator and main character, is the navigator for an air dirigible or whatever it's called. On an earlier expedition, his navigation was off by one degree, and as a result, they crash and a man falls from the craft, haunting Jasper for a very long time. Finally, he gets to go on another expedition, although his captain disapproves. Jasper is excited to be in the air again, but extremely sad to leave the love of his life, Amelia, behind. She is taking care of sick people. See, lots of people have been getting very sick lately, it's becoming an epidemic. While Jasper is on his voyage, Amelia will fall sick as well.

Anyway, the expedition is to lay out beacons in the air to establish communications in a new trade route. They are also carrying a biologist who is trying to find out why most airmen don't get the disease. In a storm, the crash into another ship, but manage to climb on before theirs is lost. The ship is completely deserted except for a big pile of bones, and a previously uncharted island marked on a map. The biologist, convinced that the island must hold the cure for the sickness, convinces the captain to sail there. So they do, and stuff happens. I'm not going to divulge any more. You'll have to see it. 

SO yeah, sorta gothicky steampunk, if you're into that, which I am. But very, very, cool. 

Here! Watch it!

Happiness is a warm gun...

I have one more thing to say before I bid my computer good night. 

I have an actual really cool (in my opinion) idea for a story. Wow. I'm thinking it'll be a collection of short stories on this idea, because I have a short attention span, but that could be cool, right? 

It came to me in a dream. I just love dreams, don't you? They always give me inspiration, even when they make no sense (which is usually the case). The dream was about this city, old and crumbling yet modern-ish clockwork at the same time. The people in the dream (no one I knew, they were sort of just the dream ghost people that follow you around) were continually referencing "the madhouses", which in this context meant insane asylums. The whole city was close to empty, though not deserted, because the majority of the population were in "the madhouses". It was all gray and dusky, like post-apocalyptic without the apocalypse, like Gotham before Batman, like a horror story where all the horror is locked away. But why? I intend to find out. 

I'm going to be exploring this city, writing about it. 

A city of tarnished brass and crumbling stone. A city with an asylum on every block. A city where anything already HAS happened. 

The city. 

OOOOOOOOH!!!!

Dirty Maggie Mae!!! 

That is the name of my new guitar. Do not question its awesomeness. Let me explain where this name comes from (and share exclusive photos!). 

So... (Sorry, I'm a bit distracted, I'm listening to a Beatles album I haven't heard in a while, and it's my favorite song... Allow me a bit of jamming...) Maggie Mae is one of those 30 second Beatles songs that I love. Y'know, like Her Majesty and ummm... Dig it, maybe? Yeah, I love those short sweet ones. 

I'm actually not entirely sure what the song is about. I guess some girl they didn't like called Maggie Mae. Yeah, it's an interesting song. Anyway, it was coming to me because I was thinking about all sorts of musical things, and even though I was planning to give the guitar some kind of flowery hippie name, I decided Dirty Maggie Mae fit much better. Plus the Beatles were like, guitar gods. 

It's a good song, I should figure out how to get one of those fancy pants song playing thingies at the bottom of my blog... We need some more Beatles up in this bitch, man. 

Oh right! I was gonna take some pictures! Ha... 

Editing tidbit: The Beatles are nowhere to be found on that playlist thing. I'm very disappointed.

Another fun fact: You have no idea how long it took me to remember the phrase "up in this bitch". 

snag a soph, _______ a junior, score a senior. What's a j-word that we can use!?!

I got a guitar!!! YAY!!! 

I feel like by finally getting the guitar I've wanted for so long, I've finally completely freed myself from that OTHER cursed instrument I used to play. I really hated the violin towards the end, you know. I didn't even name the last one I got, even though it was very pretty. Yeah, my violins used to be lovingly named, like Dusty and Allegra. And then Blank. 

Anyway, I need a good name for it. Any suggestions?

Math is the perfect time to blog...

I'm not sure if I should be telling Mr. Grossman that I accidentally made him look like a perv in acting today. It was maybe just a tad hilarious. 

So, our assignment was to pick a teacher to "become". I picked Grossman because I think he talks funny, and has amusing gestures. He's also very very awkward. So, I was doing him, and I was talking about what he was talking about the day before, how we're coming up on the Roman unit, which we would like better because they didn't have all the awkward disturbing sexual stuff. 

So, right, I was doing that, doing is funny voice and gestures and whatever, giving the little schpiel. And then, at the end, I said something like "...Y'know, because the Greeks had all that sexual stuff that you guys didn't like that much." Only I was talking like him, and he just randomly shouts things sometimes, so I overemphasize the "You guys". So he was saying that he liked it. Everybody was laughing so hard, and it took me a while to realize that was the reason why.

So hah. Sorry Mr. Grossman. 

Screw the system!!!!

As you might know, I'm a bit of an anarchist. Not like "Yeah! Anarchy! Death! Destruction! Woo! Funtimes!" but more like I wouldn't really mind it and think it can be a pretty good thing. So yeah, not a fan of uber controlling systems. 

And guess which of the most controlling, nitpicky systems I'm a part of? Girl Scouts. God. I pretty much hate it. They have so many fucking rules, and the representatives are just constantly spouting bullshit about girl development until I want to scream. All the leaders are bitchy, even when they try not to be, because the system is so rigid they have to be. I mean, the whole thing is so robotic. "Do these three (boring ass) activities and we will reward you with a token of how you followed the rules!" 

And then of course, our troop has to be the most system slave of all. We volunteer for every fucking little activity. And then we have to fill out all these piddly little forms that mean pretty much nothing, and then discuss every tiny detail, even though most of the things no one cares about anyway. It's like "Oh, we're preparing you for a future where you will vote on what you have for breakfast every day because we live in a perfect society where everyone has an equal voice!" SHUT UP. 

And don't get me started on the cookies. That is like, the most annoying time of year for me. Sell this many cookies and get a stuffed elephant! Sell sell sell! Sell sell sell! Go wild! Imagine if! Lala! Sell sell! No trans fats! I feel like I'm being brainwashed or something. Do people really want creepy girls (because most but not all girl scouts are seriously creepy system slaves who would wear their tacky little vest to school if they could) coming to their doors every year to sell them creepily named cookies? Once I get out of this idiotic system, I'm never going near one again.

But then, I have a lot of friends in the troop, even if they volunteer us for too much, and I never get to see them. And I know that if I quit my mom will rag on me incessantly to join some other fucked up club. We should make our own club. Something simple and low key, y'know? Where we don't plan every single detail and talk incessantly about yet never actually do anything for the community. 

In other news, my dog is sick with a cold, and it's really sad and pathetic. Sorry for the rant.

Random quote that I saw somewhere, no idea where it's from but I'd like to share anyway because it's stuck in my head.

"We're not the damned, people. We're the categorically fucked." 

Wish I knew where it was from.

I smell a bit like cleaning supplies...

So... I went shopping today! Yayz!!! 

I haven't been shopping in a while, because I haven't had any money, and I hate going with my mom. But finally, armed with giftcards and christmas monies, I braved Ridgedale mall, my loyal shopping buddy Morgan at my side. 

I always end up shopping with Morgan. No idea why. We just shop well together. That sounds weird. We help each other out and have similar tastes in clothing, but not exactly alike. She likes more feminine dresses and skirts, while I try to maintain a bit of quasi-androgyny (Which reminds me of a vest that my brother got for Christmas that I would very much like to steal). 

So, I got this awesome sweatshirt at Pac Sun, that's all big and furry and warm. I saw Dana there! It was cool. I found out (Even though I had guessed already, because we had first period together) that she has 1st period free too! Woo! We are going to have such a fucking blast with that. 

I also got one of those awesome indie-ish scarves that people loop around their necks that I've wanted for a really long time, and a pair of legwarmers (I've kinda wanted to try those for a while, too) at Wetseal. They had this huge sale going on, but I didn't feel like buying much there. 

We went to Victoria's Secret on a whim, mostly, because the semi-annual sale was going on ($3.99 pretty panties, woop woop!). And to Delia's, so I could complete my outfit with a T-shirt (I got two, though. They had this absolutely awesome Nirvana one that I wanted extremely badly, but they didn't have it in my size! I love Nirvana!) We finished at Sephora. Very expensive makeup, but I still got some cool eyeshadow and we tried out funky colored mascara. It didn't really show up. :( Oh well. 

So, all in all, cool ass day. 

P.S.- While people watching, Morgan and I decided that unless you're blind, wearing sunglasses inside makes you a complete tool.

Oh, hi there!

Sorry, has anyone been waiting with bated breath for an update post? No? Man...

Mkay... I was at my cabin all week, where there is noooo internet whatsoever. 

And I'm feeling very lazy and sleepy right now. I'll write tomorrow.